Aug 09 17:20:11 109 PA - Rasputin Swinging by the Firebird and Hammer
From Chronicles
Aug 09 17:20:11 109 PA.
PAVEL'S - THE FIREBIRD AND HAMMER
With sunset three hours away, the weather is nice enough to grace the semi-tamed wilderness with nice temperatures and the pleasant little sprinkles that come and go fast enough to be fun but not annoying. In his ribbon-and-bell-ringed clearing, Pavel is hard at work in his medieval forge, his massive black Friesian mare enjoying equine nibbling on the local meadow grasses. The constant and rhythmic *WHANG* of his hammer and occasional *FFFFWWOOOOSH* of something being quenched ring through the air for a good half mile.
Rasputin comes walking down the meadow. He is well dressed, as he usually is dressed. Though he has a pistol belt on, a nice looking high tech pistol in the main holster on his right hip. A nickle plated pistol in a cross-draw holster on the other hip. He doesn't have the cane he usually walks with, but everything else is normal.
Pavel's hammer continues, *WHANG - pause *WHANG* - pause - *WHANG*. He's paying attention to his work, singing a good labor song. It's actually the horse who has brought a charge up from town that gets his attention. After all, she's the biggest thing around get his attention. A happy, high-pitched whinny comes out, and the smith turns to look, face immediately recognizing his friend. << Rasputin! It's so good to see you! >> The fire over the coals douses itself quickly, almost like having water dumped on it, though they still continue to smolder.
Rasputin has an overcoat on at the moment, one of those Branaghan armored ones. He smiles, "Greetings, now I know why I make you come visit me." He chuckles, "Dis a long walk out here, ya know." He chuckles, "What you be workink on?"
Pavel reaches back and grabs a long piece of what is still a red-hot rod. << It's going to be a shovel, >> he explains. << This is what I do everyday, the things that make me grin. Down the road at the village, they really need lots of farm tools and such. >> Holding the red-hot rod comfortably in his hand, he waves it to indicate the dwarf's belt, completely unaware that that overcoat is unusual. << Wise decision to come armed. >> The horse trots along, starting to sniff at Rasputin's head.
Rasputin grins, "Da, da. Whenever mink go outside of da city, I carry one for da normals." He pats the NG-45LP, "And one for da not so normals." He pats the nickle plated pistol, "And I put on mink overcoat, and underwear too." He chuckles a bit at, what might be an inside joke? "So you are making lots of tools, I make food. If we dere to open a shop, we would shovel good food into unsuspectink people's mouths." He tugs his beard and grins.
Pavel laughs loudly as his horse continues to snuffle at Rasputin's head. The smith waves her off with a quick whistle. << Zoyenka! Water! >> He mare's tale flips, and her head perks before she starts to wander off to the south. << Sorry, she's a very friendly companion. Good horse for me. Yes, though, we could shovel food into people's mouths! So what are the pistols, exactly? That nickel-plated one, I could probably shoot it well. But to be honest, I prefer to just swing things, >> he says with a grin. << Oh, and wise decision on the underwear. >>
Rasputin grins figuring his large friend doesn't get the underwear joke, but dis OK. He smiles, "Dis, " he pats the high tech one on his right hip, "is a Northern Gun 45 Long Pistol. Doesn't burst, or anything. Just good solid punches with each trigger pull. I've got a custom grip and Wilk's aimer on it. She is good and solid." He taps the other, nickle plated pistol, "This one is a Thundergun. Designed to be harming creatures based on their qualities. The more nasty, the more it hurts them."
The smith pays as much attention as he can, but much of the information goes past him. << Northern Gun is one of the manufacturers of military supplies, yes? It's good that it doesn't burst. Bad for a gun to burst when someone's holding it, they usually lose the hand. >> His brow is furrowed a bit, trying to make sense. The bit about the aiming device receives no comment. << I have a pistol and a rifle from the NTI company. They're very loud, > he offers as an opinion. His face then splits wide. << The gun I'll be bringing along was designed for large robots and vehicles. Hurts more than just about anything that you could find but one of those ah... ah... damn, what do they call them. I saw a picture, the thing with a shiny body and cannon on its shoulder. >> Rasputin chuckles softly, "Glitter boy?" He grins, "And burst is a function of da firearm. Where it fires more dhan one shot per each trigger pull."
<< Oh. Yes, my pistol does that. More than one bullet at a time, >> Pavel confirms. << If it's a 'Glitter Boy,' I now know what to call it. >> He grins and finally gets around to putting the long rod of red-hot iron into the quenching trough, where it lets out a decent FWOOSH-HISSS as it cools rapidly. He nods to a very large pile of stones - clearly from the same rock - sitting outside the eastern part of his covered area. << Fizzlesnoot asked me to show him how to work hard. I've been getting some good benefits out of it! Just hope he really learns. >>
Rasputin nods and tugs his beard, "Da, da, bit, shining all polished, and one large gun. Dhat would be a Glitter Boy." He looks to your work as his words come out. He listens to your words regarding Fizzlesnoot, "He is the merchant individual, da? Runs some sort of shop now?"
<< Yes, a strip club. Titty bar for people who don't have a personal pair of their own to enjoy, right? >> Pavel gives the dwarf a suggestive wink. << In the 'Dregs, actually a bit near you. I guess now it's also a gambling house and a whorehouse, too. Got it from some guy who decided he didn't want it. Pretty much all I know about the club. He's a nice guy though. Real merchant, like you said, always looking for deals. In fact? >> He brushes his hands on his apron, trying to get the soot off - an inevitable failure. << I told him to get a labor song to make the work that he wants to learn easier, but he said that instead, he'll just keep a running tab on things. So I guess everybody works differently, right? Oh, he renamed the club Lady Luck, from Ivory Lady. >>
Rasputin nods slowly, "Da, da. Dis seemink like something I overheard at da Deli." He shrugs, "Good for you teachink him how to stay in shape, always good to work hard." He eyes the tools, "Da, did mink ever be tellink you, I know a little about working metal as well?"
Pavel's a bit surprised, << No, no you didn't. Though... hmm... perhaps way back when we first me, I seem to recall that you might have mentioned it. But nothing much. >> He returns to the Fizzlesnoot topic for a moment. << I hope that what he learns isn't staying in shape, or even how to work hard. It's simply how to work. But, tell me of your metal, please. >>
Rasputin chuckles, "Been mink long time since I've had a hearth and anvil to pound, used to do it a great deal with my father back in the old country. Perhaps sometime, I'll rent your kit here and make something." He grins a bit and tugs his beard, "I came out here, because you left this note regarding things we might encounter. Supernatural or magiks." He waits a moment to make sure you are both on the same page, "I don't expect dhose type of creatures, but one never knows. It is always good to be prepared." He taps his cross draw nickle plated pistol as an indicator of his readiness.
Pavel nods, and quickly escorts his friend across the large meadow, down a somewhat steep ravine and then back against the stream, staying dry up to a big round boulder. Something easily massive that he rolls aside to reveal a waterfall. << Please, you need to go through. This is where I live. Vampire-unfriendly. I'll show you what I'm talking about, with the weapons. >>
PAVEL'S GROTTO
Rasputin follows you with interest, and walks along. "Of course, I carry a silver, wooden, and bone dagger as well. Just in case."
Pavel smiles, << Silver with me, and I'm good with wood, yes. But I have some specialties. >> Although the grotto is dark upon entry, a number of torches and braziers blaze to life, immediately shedding light. A few steps take him into a room separate from the main room. He leans back. << Just a second.>> Whistling ensues, and in a short time he comes out with two swords. Big swords. Five-foot-long swords, with the hilt included. Probably longer, were someone to actually measure them. They're lain carefully on a pillow, and he points to them with simple identification, << Copper. Iron. >>
Rasputin whistles and nods, "Dat is a nice piece of work there, but copper and iron?" He thinks, "Is there some magik dhat you can be doink to such metals, I would have thought steel with silver inlay or somethink would have been better?"
Pavel smiles. << I have more silver than anyone would need, you've seen my hammer. No, copper here is what I can turn to fire. Anyone who doesn’t like fire, hates this blade, and that includes anything that has a weakness for it. The iron? It works against spirits and ghosts, something few others can brag about, yes? >> With a final smile, he wraps the blades in some gentle carpets. << Plus, whoever holds the copper blade is immune to fire - and if an evil person even tries to *pick up* the copper blade, it will be to them as if they were struck by it. The iron? It is a good trick. Lightning strikes you, and you are safe. So, do I need these, or is that an unnecessary worry? >>
Rasputin gets a small beep in his pocket. He pulls out a small device, looks at it, and then frowns. "Mink must be goink back to town, mink sorries." He then pauses, "Brink dhem, just incase. Better safe dan sorry, da?"
